


i could live by the light in your eyes

by sonlali



Series: In Sickness and In Health [2]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Begging, Come Sharing, Established Relationship, Jam Basket Exchange, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Teasing, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 11:21:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21391312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonlali/pseuds/sonlali
Summary: Patrick has recovered from his bout with the flu, and David is very excited to reconnect physically.Based on a prompt by didipickles: Patrick is finally over a cold and David is horny af.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: In Sickness and In Health [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1542166
Comments: 26
Kudos: 166





	i could live by the light in your eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [didipickles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/didipickles/gifts).

> Didi, I really hope you enjoy your mango jam basket!! Your prompt inspired me to write this sequel to my Patrick sickfic, but midway through writing I realized that I had accidentally started incorporating some of your jams. So I decided to be efficient and merge your prompt and jams into one smutty jam basket. When I claimed your jams, I had a vague idea for a fic based around several of them, but then I ended up using almost entirely different jams instead. Writing this was definitely outside of my usual comfort zone, so thank you for unintentionally challenging me. 
> 
> [cupcake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nervouscupcakeinspace): thank you for reading and providing encouragement every day. i appreciate your enthusiasm, support, and thoughtful feedback so very much. 
> 
> [olive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/olive2read): thank you for your thoughtful and generous beta work. thank you for making so many sentences infinitely better by rearranging words and removing pesky prepositions. i appreciate your suggestions and your encouragement so much.
> 
> title from "I Choose You" by Sara Bareilles, but the working title was "Mango? More Like Man-Come," and yes, i do think i'm hilarious.

David is hot and tired and uncomfortable, trudging along a seemingly unending trail going up a mountainside. A fly buzzes past his ear, and David swats at the air around him in frustration. 

“Paaaaatriiiiiiick,” he whines, dragging the name out into as many syllables as possible. “How much longer?”

Patrick doesn’t respond but keeps moving forward, his pace quickening until David can barely see him in the distance. He struggles to catch up, but the mountain is at a near vertical incline now.

“Patrick! Please wait up! Patrick!” David cries out, clinging to the mountainside as he tries to pull himself upwards. 

“David. David. David!” He can hear Patrick’s answering shout, his voice so close to David’s ear, but Patrick is nowhere to be found. Suddenly David is being shaken—is there an earthquake? There’s hot breath on his neck, and now David is running from the mysterious figure pursuing him. 

“David!” The voice calls his name again and David bolts awake with a jolt.

“Where’s the bear?!” he shouts in confusion.

He hears Patrick chuckle softly and murmur, “Bear? What were you dreaming about?”

David blinks several times as his heart rate returns to normal. A dream. Of course. There’s no way he would willingly hike up a mountain anywhere but in a terrible dream.

“Why are you waking me up in the middle of the night?” David grumbles and buries his face back into his pillow, but Patrick pokes at his ribcage until David finally groans and rolls over to face his annoying boyfriend. 

“It’s 7:30 a.m., David.” Patrick is fully dressed, hair damp from the shower, and grinning at him from where he is perched on the side of the bed. “I’m going into the store early this morning.”

“Mkay, have a good day. I’ll be in at 11.” David pulls the covers up over his head. 

Patrick yanks them back down. “You’ll be in at 10, and I wanted you to listen to something before I left.”

“Ugh, what?” 

“Listen!” Patrick repeats.

“OK, I’m listening, Patrick! What exactly am I supposed to be listening _to_?” David is starting to wish he was still trapped on the dream mountain with the bear. 

“What do you hear?” Patrick sounds excited, and David squints at him suspiciously. 

“Nothing. I hear nothing,” he says.

“Exactly!” Patrick grins proudly.

“What the fuck are you talking about?!” Maybe he _is_ actually still dreaming. That would explain why nothing is making sense right now. 

“Nothing, David!” Patrick inhales deeply through his nose. “Nothing! No snotty mucus sounds when I breathe!”

“Ughhh, Patrick! You _know_ how I feel about that word! Did you seriously wake me up at the crack of dawn to talk about your phlegm?!” 

“My _lack_ of phlegm, David. I think my flu is officially gone! No mucus, no body aches, no fever.” Patrick smiles broadly, and David finally catches on.

“Ohh! Oh, good. That’s good!” David leans up and purses his lips and Patrick takes the cue and captures his mouth in a kiss. David hums against Patrick’s lips and lets his eyes close, already thinking about getting a couple more hours of sleep. Except Patrick unexpectedly shoves his tongue into David’s mouth, turning the kiss filthy, and David groans. 

“Mm, okay!” David gasps when Patrick finally pulls away smirking. “You certainly _are_ feeling better!” 

Patrick gives his best attempt at a wink and saunters toward the door, his hips swaying temptingly. “See you at 10, David.”

“10:30!” David calls after him and collapses back onto his pillow. He rolls over to Patrick’s side of the bed and inhales deeply. Patrick was sick for a week, which has really disrupted their ability to _connect_. David smiles into Patrick’s pillow and falls asleep fantasizing about how they will spend their evening. 

\--

David enters Rose Apothecary at 9:55 a.m., and Patrick looks up in surprise. David gives the store a quick onceover to ensure there are not any customers, then moves swiftly to where Patrick is standing behind the counter.

“Wow, David, I didn’t know it was possible for you to get here before—mmfph!” Patrick’s sentence is cut off when David kisses him firmly.

David hasn’t been able to stop thinking about Patrick since he left this morning. He fell back to sleep briefly, but awakened hot and half-hard after a particularly vivid dream—this one decidedly unrelated to hiking. He spent the entirety of his morning routine thinking about kissing Patrick, touching Patrick, _fucking_ Patrick. For days, Patrick’s bed—_their_ bed, as David sometimes likes to think privately—has been littered with crumpled tissues, cough drops, and errant vitamins lingering from Ray’s extremely generous pharmacy visit. But now, with the return of Patrick’s good health, the bedroom is open to so many more possibilities again. 

David shoves Patrick against the counter, gripping his hips firmly, and Patrick responds enthusiastically, wrapping his arms around David’s waist. David licks into Patrick’s mouth and bites at his lower lip. Patrick gasps and sighs softly, “_David_.” He kisses along Patrick’s jaw, and Patrick brings a hand up to cup David’s cheek. “David,” he says again, and David reluctantly stops his insistent kissing and rests his forehead against Patrick’s. 

“Shit, David, we can’t do this here.” Patrick is beautifully flushed when he pulls away, his eyes repeatedly flicking down to David’s mouth. 

“But I’ve missed you.” David pitches his voice low and bites his lip. 

Patrick’s eyes meet David’s and David feels like he’s burning alive under his gaze. The bell above the door sounds, and the spell is broken. Patrick slips out from behind the counter to greet the customer, and David retreats to the staff workroom, dropping into a chair and heaving a loud sigh. 

David remains seated while Patrick makes a sale and tries to think about anything other than Patrick’s lips, or his neck, or his thighs, or… Oh! Patrick is now standing in the doorway with his arms crossed (_God, those_ forearms) and a stern expression. 

“David, we can’t do this at work,” he repeats. “We can be professional adults and wait until this evening.”

“Have I ever told you how sexy you are when you’re so commanding… and firm?” David raises an eyebrow and licks his lips slowly. 

“David, I’m not falling for that.” At another quirk of David’s brow, he adds, “Again.”

“It’s been so long, Patrick.” 

Patrick rolls his eyes. “It’s been six days.” 

“I know!” David throws his hands up in the air. 

“Tonight.” Patrick’s voice holds a note of finality and he heads back onto the shop floor. 

David stands and studies his reflection in the mirror propped up in the corner. Patrick really should know better than to issue a challenge. He adjusts his hair and smirks, a plan already formulating in his mind.

\--

David exits the workroom and heads for a shelf directly across from where Patrick is standing at the counter working on his laptop. Patrick glances up from whatever spreadsheet he has open and eyes David warily, but David ignores him entirely. He takes the dustrag he brought out with him and slowly tucks it into his back pocket. He doesn’t need to turn around to know that Patrick’s eyes are on him. He stretches out to reach the highest shelf and gathers a jar of organic mango jam in his hand, making a show of pulling the rag from his pocket, wrapping his hand around the jar, and rubbing the fingerprints off in the most graphic way possible.

“David,” Patrick says, and his voice is a warning, which means David has more work to do. He continues this process with each jar on every shelf, taking care to arch his back as he stretches to reach the highest shelves and swaying his hips as he bends to the lowest. He rubs each jar as slowly as he can manage, long after any dust or fingerprints are visible.

David sneaks a glance over his shoulder to where Patrick is standing, valiantly pretending to be focused on his laptop, though David hasn’t heard any typing for several minutes. Patrick’s chest is rising and falling rapidly, but he gives no other outward sign of being affected by David’s actions. This is of no concern to David, who has only just begun. He sends a silent thank you to Mariah and Beyoncé that he has thus far been uninterrupted by customers—profits be damned.

He moves to another shelving unit and instantly feels the heat as Patrick’s gaze locks on him. David suppresses a smirk and picks up a particularly phallic bottle of conditioner (David chooses each and every product for his store _very_ carefully and intentionally). He holds the bottle low and rubs it slowly, giving a gratuitous hum of pleasure under his breath. This time, he’s rewarded with a noisy exhale from Patrick. 

David continues to make his way around the store at a leisurely pace, closing the distance to where Patrick is still standing, no longer making any effort to disguise his staring. As he approaches the register, David finally looks directly at Patrick and slowly and deliberately licks his lips. Patrick closes his eyes and groans, and David smirks at his success. Just as he’s about to take the final steps to reach Patrick, the bell over the door rings and Patrick’s eyes fly open in alarm. David swears under his breath and admires Patrick’s backside as he moves out from around the counter and over to assist the customer. 

When several more customers enter, signaling their lunch hour rush, David tilts his head back and squeezes his eyes shut, barely able to stop himself from shouting at them all to leave immediately. _Honestly_, this situation is urgent, and their inane questions about the best self-tanning lotion (_none of them, you orange monsters!_) are, quite frankly, not important during this trying time. David forces himself to take several deep breaths and directs yet another customer to their all-natural SPF 30 sunscreen. 

The next several hours drag by painfully slowly as a nonstop stream of customers keeps David away from Patrick. Ordinarily this many customers would make the time pass quickly, but right now, David cannot redirect his focus from how badly he wants—_needs_—Patrick. David can’t be bothered with subtlety and openly stares at his gorgeous boyfriend. His broad shoulders. His collarbones peeking out from his open shirt collar. The way his jeans hug his ass. And _fuck_ his thighs! David wants to sink his teeth into those beautiful thick thighs and bite and lick and positively _devour_ Patrick. 

He watches the delicious movement of Patrick’s forearms as he rings up a purchase at the register. Without conscious thought, he’s moving toward Patrick, standing beside him at the register. Patrick glances at David, and his eyes are dark, his pupils blown wide. David shifts until he’s standing so close their arms touch and carefully folds the customer’s scarf and places it in a Rose Apothecary tote. They continue this pattern for the next several customers—Patrick ringing up purchases and David placing them in a tote. David brushes against Patrick’s body as much as possible, and Patrick’s eyes keep darting over before shifting back to their customers. 

When there’s finally a lull in customers, Patrick turns abruptly to David, wrapping an arm around his waist and dragging him flush against his body. Patrick kisses him hungrily, and David feels relief flood his body. _Finally!_ David’s body relaxes and comes alive all at once. He breathes in the scent of Patrick’s cologne and sighs into his mouth. His hands rove over his body as he tries to touch everything all at once. David’s mind is beginning to grow foggy, his thoughts a loop of _yes, fuck, more, please_. Patrick pulls away much too soon, and David whines in protest. 

“David.” Patrick’s voice is low and breathless, and David feels weak with desire. “You’re going to kill me before we close for the day.” 

David mouths along Patrick’s jawline and scratches down his back, delighting in the way Patrick shivers in his arms. He moves down to lick and bite at Patrick’s neck and collarbones—an exquisite temptation in that fucking baby blue Oxford shirt, first button undone the way Patrick favors, exposing that delectable neck. David sets to work sucking a hickey, but Patrick pulls away again. 

“Fuck, David,” Patrick hisses under his breath, and if he is meaning to discourage David with the expletive, he is taking a wildly ineffective approach. David feels his blood rushing south, and he reaches for Patrick again. Patrick captures his mouth in a bruising kiss, biting his lower lip sharply, and backs away so abruptly that David falls forward in surprise. Patrick leans in close and speaks in a dangerous whisper, lips tickling David’s ear. “You’re going to go back to my place and get ready for me, okay?”

“We’re closing early?” David breathes.

“Oh, no. _I’m_ going to be here until 5:00 to close up our store, but _you_ clearly can’t behave well enough to be here today, so you’re going to go wait for me.” 

David’s mouth is suddenly dry and he struggles to swallow. He nods wordlessly, feeling hot underneath his sweater. 

Patrick kisses him once more and smacks him lightly on the ass. “Go on, baby. Go wait for me.”

\--

The porcelain pig tchotchke on Patrick’s dresser—courtesy of Ray’s baffling interior decorating scheme—is mocking David. He’s been staring at the bespectacled pig’s stupid grin for an eternity waiting on Patrick to come home. Nearly an hour has passed since he raced back to Patrick’s place from the Apothecary, and his entire body is thrumming with a combination of excitement and impatience. 

He had a shower, washing thoroughly and breathlessly fingering himself to prepare for Patrick. Then he stripped the sheets from the bed. Patrick has spent the past week coughing and sneezing in this bed, and David refuses to have sex on all of that. He carefully remade Patrick’s bed with a fresh set of sheets and turned down the comforter in anticipation, and now he’s sitting on the end of the bed having a staring contest with the damn porcelain pig. Every time he looks up after checking his phone for the time or to see if Patrick has texted, that fucking pig is right there grinning at him, taunting him. David is fidgeting with his rings and debating shoving the ugly knickknack into a drawer when he hears a door slam downstairs. His heart rate instantly speeds up as he shivers with anticipation. 

He listens to the footsteps coming up the stairs and leaps to his feet, suddenly feeling a wave of embarrassment surge through his body, standing as he is in the middle of Patrick’s room in nothing but his boxers. He briefly considers throwing his sweater back on, but _no, Patrick said to be ready for him_. The footsteps pause at the top of the stairs, and David panics at the possibility that Ray is about to come bursting into the room. 

The door swings open and David’s breath catches in his chest. Patrick is standing in the doorway, his eyes dark, his skin lightly flushed, and David is bowled over once again by how gorgeous this man is. 

Patrick’s eyes rake slowly down David’s body, and David feels like he might burst into flames. When Patrick raises his eyes to meet his gaze, David feels his mouth go dry and he swallows thickly. Patrick’s stare burns as he follows the movement of David’s throat. 

“Hi,” David says, his voice barely a whisper.

Patrick’s answering smile makes David glow with pleasure. He kicks the door shut and covers the distance between them in two quick strides. His hands grip David’s hips and he pulls their bodies flush, speaking directly against his lips, “Hi, beautiful.” 

David melts and Patrick’s mouth is hot and eager against his, licking into his mouth and sucking on his bottom lip. David can already feel himself getting hard, just from this small contact. He’s been kept from this for a week, has been thinking about Patrick all day, and now David cannot wait anymore.

“I need you,” he gasps into Patrick’s mouth, and Patrick’s hands slip into his boxers and grab his ass, squeezing firmly. 

“Are you all ready for me like I asked?” One finger glides over David’s crack and slips into his hole, loose and slick with lube where he stretched himself in the shower. David moans and Patrick slips another finger in, rubbing lightly. “Good job, baby. You’ve done so well for me.”

David lets out a high-pitched whine in response. The thrill of making Patrick proud and receiving his praise zips through his body, making him desperate for more. He paws at Patrick’s chest and leaves frantic kisses all along his neck. Patrick removes his fingers and pushes David’s boxers down in one fluid motion. David whimpers at the loss of contact, craving the feel of Patrick inside of him, but Patrick disentangles himself from David and takes a step back. 

Patrick’s cheeks are beautifully flushed as he stands with his hands on his hips, simply staring at David, almost as if he wishes to catalogue everything about him. David is suddenly keenly aware that he is completely nude, while Patrick is fully dressed down to his shoes. Under the intensity of Patrick’s stare, David feels stripped completely bare of not just his clothing, but down to his very soul. No one has ever seen David the way Patrick is seeing him right now, the way Patrick always sees him. 

An overwhelming wave of emotion crashes over his body at the knowledge that he is completely exposed and vulnerable to Patrick’s scrutiny right now, and all he feels from Patrick is intense desire and affection. He has opened himself up entirely to this man, and instead of judgment or ridicule, he is receiving nothing but love in return. David feels his eyes well with tears, and Patrick is there in an instant, taking him in his arms and whispering, _“I’ve got you, David. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”_

David clings to Patrick and kisses him hungrily, and Patrick runs his hands over David’s back soothingly, murmuring against his lips, ”You’re so beautiful, David. So good for me. You’re so good.” Patrick walks him backwards, pushing him lightly onto the bed, and David shuffles up until his head is resting on the pillows. Patrick makes no move to join him on the bed, but instead stands above him, palming himself in his jeans. David whines at the sight and reaches for his own cock, straining against his stomach.

“None of that,” Patrick says sharply, and David immediately drops his hand, gazing up with wide eyes. 

The corners of Patrick’s mouth turn upwards in a teasing smirk, and he bends to unlace his shoes, kicking them across the room carelessly. David follows Patrick’s every movement, unable to tear his eyes away. Patrick kneels on the bed, still completely dressed, and shuffles forward until he is perched between David’s legs. He stares at David wordlessly, the eye contact seering, and lightly strokes his fingertips up and down his legs. His touch is so feather soft that it sends shivers all through David’s body. Unexpectedly, Patrick smacks David’s left thigh sharply and he gasps in shock. 

“Roll over, David.” His voice leaves no room for questions, and David hastens to obey, flipping himself onto his stomach, unable to stop himself from grinding against the mattress in need. He feels Patrick move further up the bed until he is kneeling between David’s thighs. He nudges David’s legs wider and resumes the ticklish stroking—across his thighs, dipping between his legs to briefly cup his balls, up over the curve of his ass—and David is practically purring under his attentions, his entire body vibrating beneath Patrick’s fingertips. 

Patrick slips a thumb in between David’s cheeks and rubs at his entrance, his light touch making David keen for more. “Patrick,” he pants. “Patrick, more.” Patrick’s thumb still just barely presses at his hole, his other hand rubbing David’s back soothingly. David squirms, trying to move back into Patrick’s touch. “Patrick, more, please. Touch me.”

David nearly screams with frustration as Patrick pulls both of his hands away, humming cheerfully. “So demanding, David. You need to learn patience.” 

“I’ve _been_ patient, an—ahhhh-ah!” David screams when Patrick’s warm mouth is directly on his hole, sucking and kissing hotly. “Paaa—God, _fuck_, Patrick!” Curses, exclamations, and moans are spilling from his mouth unbidden, and David’s mind starts to white out. Patrick’s tongue darts out to lick at him, dipping in teasingly, and David writhes. In an instant, Patrick’s warm, calloused hands are at his hips, pinning him firmly to the mattress. 

Patrick’s mouth pulls away, and David nearly sobs. “No, please, Patrick! Don’t stop, _fuck_, pleeease don’t stop!” David’s desperate pleas break off when a slick finger enters alongside Patrick’s tongue. He distantly wonders when Patrick even got the lube, but then Patrick is pressing a second finger inside and speaking, his mouth still so close that his warm breath is teasing at David’s hole. 

“You’ve done such a good job opening yourself for me, David. Your pretty hole is so eager for my cock, isn’t it?” His fingers press further inside, and David can only whine in what he hopes sounds like an affirmative response. Patrick’s fingers tease and stroke inside him, periodically joined by his hot, eager tongue. 

“You taste so good, David.” He licks a slow, teasing stripe from David’s balls up to his hole. “Look at you, so loose and open for me.” He leaves wet, open-mouthed kisses all along David’s ass, licking in and around his hole messily. 

David can feel his thighs trembling, sweat pooling at the small of his back, his toes curling, but still it is not enough. “Paaa—aaahhh, _fuck_! Patrick, more. Need you... need your cock in me!” 

This earns him a sharp smack on his ass—the sound of Patrick’s palm against his skin cracking loudly—and David moans even louder in response. “What did I say about being patient, David?” Patrick removes his fingers and gives David another light smack. “Roll over.”

David flips onto his back and feels himself grow, if possible, even harder at the sight before him. Patrick is still fully dressed, sweat dampening his hairline, an obvious bulge straining his jeans. He’s undone another two buttons of his shirt, his sweat-slick chest visible, and David aches to pin Patrick to the bed and _lick_ the sweat from his body. As he watches, Patrick pops open the fly of his jeans and pulls down the zipper, his eyes locked on David’s with an overwhelming intensity. 

David moans, watching Patrick palm himself through his briefs, pleasure jolting through his body just from the look on Patrick’s face, his pupils blown wide and mouth slightly open. David feels hypnotized by the way the muscles in Patrick’s forearms flex as he touches himself, the way his skin is flushed brightly all the way down his chest, the slight wrinkle between his eyebrows as he concentrates. He wants to memorize every detail, certain that nothing else could ever be so beautiful. 

Patrick tugs his jeans and briefs open just enough to pull out his cock, and David’s mouth floods with saliva. He gives himself a few slow, languorous strokes from the base to the flushed red tip, and just when David is certain he will lose his mind, Patrick drops down to hold himself over David with one hand on either side of David’s shoulders. Reflexively, David wraps his legs around Patrick’s waist, and Patrick shifts his weight to one arm, the other stroking the inside of David’s thigh. 

“Patrick… please, Patrick. Please, I’ve been patient. Pleeease, I need your gorgeous thick cock inside me!”

He must have reached the right combination of begging and desperation, because finally—_finally_—Patrick guides his cock into David’s waiting hole. 

Patrick enters at a maddeningly slow pace, and the stretch is glorious, but David needs _more_. He tightens the grip he has with his legs around Patrick’s waist, trying to encourage him to move forward, but Patrick resists.

“No, David. After you spent the entire day being such a little tease, I’m going to take my time with you tonight. Now, be good for me.”

David throws his head back against the pillow, squeezing his eyes shut, and willing himself not to scream. 

“Eyes on me, David.”

David does scream this time, first from frustration, but then from Patrick thrusting forward sharply until he is fully inside. Patrick is so deep, and David feels so full, and _why exactly has Patrick stopped moving?!_ Patrick has his hips pressed against David, fully sheathed but completely unmoving, and several excruciating seconds pass before David’s static-filled brain understands that Patrick is waiting for David to make eye contact. He opens his eyes and raises his head, and sure enough, _that smug fucker_, Patrick is looking at him expectantly with one corner of his mouth twisted upward.

“Good job, babe,” he praises, and David lets out a string of curses that quickly shift into moans when Patrick pulls out almost entirely and then grinds into David slow and deep. The stiff fabric of Patrick’s jeans, still clinging to his thighs, scratches roughly against David’s skin, ripping out a moan from the exquisite combination of pleasure and pain. David keeps his eyes on Patrick’s, and suddenly he’s not sure how he could ever look away. 

Patrick maintains the steady rhythm he has set for an indeterminate amount of time—minutes, hours, days maybe. David is so lost in the movement and in Patrick’s deep, warm eyes that he feels almost relaxed. He feels comfortable and like they are both right where they belong right now. Patrick leans in and kisses him softly, smiling again his lips, and David knows that he’s feeling the exact same way right now. 

“Ready?” he says, and David smiles and nods. The adorable crinkle reappears in between Patrick’s eyes, and he shifts, hitting his target perfectly with his next thrust. David arches up off the bed as Patrick fucks in faster, his cock now pressing against David’s prostate with each thrust. David feels his orgasm building in the base of his spine, and he reaches for Patrick desperately, dragging him down to meet in a messy kiss. 

Patrick pants into his mouth, and his rhythm begins to falter. David can feel Patrick’s thighs begin to tremble and his face scrunches, and David knows he’s about to come. He bites at that spot behind Patrick’s ear that always makes him lose his mind, and then Patrick is coming hotly into David. 

“David, David, David,” Patrick chants his name like a mantra. “Fuck, David… I love you, I love you, I love you so fucking much.” David clings to Patrick, wrapping his legs tighter around his waist, and he can feel Patrick’s cock still twitching so deep inside him. It’s so good, so fucking good, and he’s so close. But then Patrick is wrapping a hand around the base of David’s cock and David could cry.

“Not yet, David.” Patrick slowly pulls out and presses gentle kisses along David’s jaw. David laments the loss already, desperation thrumming through his body. Patrick swipes his thumb softly under David’s eyes, and maybe he _is_ actually crying. “I know you want to come, love, and you’ve been so good. You’ll get to come soon, I promise.”

David’s brain is foggy and he can’t comprehend why exactly he can’t come _right now_. Patrick continues squeezing lightly around the base off his cock until he’s no longer right on the edge. David whines weakly, and Patrick reassures him gently, leaving fleeting, soft kisses all over David’s body. There’s a flurry dropped over his nose, his cheeks, across his jawline. Another batch land down his neck and over his chest. There’s a kiss to David’s left bicep, another to the tender skin on the inside of his wrist. He presses a kiss to each finger on his right hand, and David has never felt so taken care of. He understands now that Patrick is showing his gratitude for how David cared for him when he was sick last week. 

“Patrick,” David says, his voice cracking with emotion. Patrick drops a kiss right under David’s belly button and smiles up at him. His smile is so warm, his face radiating joy, and David feels his own mouth responding with a smile so wide his cheeks burn. 

Patrick kisses his hip bone and moves down to suck a bruise into David’s thigh. When David’s entire body is shaking, Patrick finally takes pity and presses a gentle kiss to the tip of David’s cock. 

“Please, Patrick! Please, please, please!” 

“Shh, David, you’re going to come, I promise. I want you to come in my mouth, okay?” David has barely managed to comprehend Patrick’s words before his mouth is around him. The hot, wet suction of Patrick’s mouth is perfect, and David knows he has maybe 30 seconds before he’s coming. Patrick drops down low, taking David deep and moaning around him. David vaguely registers that the high, needy whimpers filling the room are coming from him, and he spares a quick thought for whether Ray is home, but then Patrick flicks his tongue into David’s slit and all conscious thought flies out the window. 

Patrick pulls off to take a breath and licks at the head, humming with satisfaction. “You taste so good, David. Love the way you taste. Gonna come for me now, yeah? Gonna give me your come.”

David groans and flings his arm over his eyes, but Patrick bites sharply at his thigh. “Eyes on me, David. Wanna look at you while I suck your gorgeous cock and swallow your come.” David looks down and nearly comes on the spot from the sight of Patrick’s red, puffy lips, slick with precome. Patrick’s tongue darts out to lick at his lips and moan with satisfaction, and David is certain he will lose his fucking mind. 

Patrick takes David back in his mouth, hollowing his cheeks and bobbing his head. David thrashes and feels Patrick’s come dripping hotly from his hole and down his thighs. Patrick swipes a finger through the come and pushes it back in David’s hole, rubbing lightly at the rim, and David is a goner.

He barely manages to utter a choked warning, and then he’s coming down Patrick’s throat. Patrick swallows around him greedily until David twitches from overstimulation. He pulls off and licks at David until he is clean, humming contentedly. “So good, David. Love your come.” 

David feels utterly boneless, his mind pleasantly blank. Patrick shifts between his legs, and David is ready for cuddles, but then his mouth is back, licking hotly at David’s hole. “Ahh, Patrick!” he says weakly, squirming in protest, but Patrick continues eagerly sucking his own come from David.

He crawls up David’s body with his mouth full, and David can only groan faintly and open his mouth to Patrick. The kiss is all teeth and tongue, Patrick shoving his come into David’s mouth and licking it back out, biting at David’s lips, and panting heavily. David kisses back as best he can, even as his exhausted body is hurtling toward sleep. 

Patrick gentles his mouth and sighs against David’s lips. The next thing David is aware of, Patrick has a warm washcloth in his hand, and he’s murmuring softly as he cleans David. He’s finally undressed, now wearing only a navy pair of briefs, and David feels his lips twist to the side in a smile. God, he loves this man. Patrick tosses the washcloth in the direction of the clothes hamper and joins David in the bed, kissing him sweetly on the forehead. Patrick turns to the nightstand and grabs a glass of water, which David can only assume he retrieved while David was still floating dreamily in post-orgasm bliss. He presses the glass to David’s lips and encourages him to drink, whispering praise against his temple. 

When David has finished the glass, Patrick places it back on the nightstand, shuffles down under the covers, and surrounds David with his warmth. He tenderly shifts David onto his side and snuggles up behind him, wrapping an arm tightly around his middle, and pressing a kiss to his neck. David’s eyes are drifting shut as one final thought crosses his mind. _I’m going to marry this man._

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on tumblr [@landofsonlali](https://landofsonlali.tumblr.com/)!


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